The Runaway
by Earlie Birdie
Summary: He was a peasant farm boy. She was a runaway who didn't even know how to be a proper runaway. Together, they were going to find the princess. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**_ Based on a dream I had. I've heard that you're not supposed to dwell on dreams or whatever, but you don't understand. I have _EPIC_ dreams. Like, I don't know if it's something that I eat, but they're always full-length movies in my head and sometimes I'm lucky enough to remember them. Thank goodness, I remembered this one! I've got to admit that I've taken elements from some of my other works and put it in here as well, but they're _my_ works. I can copy myself if I want to, lol. Hope you enjoy!

_**Disclaimer: **_This is a _fanfiction_ website. _-crickets- _Haha!

This'll be a pretty short story, probably at around three or four chapters. Eh, I'm gonna set Raven at 19 and Robin at 20. Warning, this is definitely a fairytale. Like storybook fairytale, almost. I've got a thing for those, haha!

* * *

The Runaway

* * *

_He was a peasant farm boy. She was a runaway who didn't even know how to be a proper runaway. Together, they were going to find the princess._

* * *

They were planning to barter her off as a wife - 'they' being her parents. She was going to be the bridge. She was going to be the reason her family's name would continue to flourish. She was going to make them rich. Rich-_er_. She was going to make them proud.

And she was going to have _none_ of it.

Perhaps it was all of the books and novels that she read. Maybe it was even a longing that was finally reaching out to her from the bottom of her heart, but she was not going to allow herself to be condemned to the same fate of her mother and the women around her. She was not going to stay quiet in order to please them. She was not going to steal her own heart away in order to satisfy them. Even if she did not expect to marry for love like those swooning women in her books, she was _not_ about to allow herself to be _bartered_.

Contrary to the popular belief of the land and among her people, she, a woman, was not a toy. She, a woman, was not a thing to be owned or possessed. Yes, she was a woman, but she was also a person.

**_._**

"Richard, did you hear? The princess disappeared."

Richard's teeth stopped in his apple, mid-bite, as he met Garfield's eyes. Then, he finished his bite with a resounding crunch. "What do you mean she _disappeared_?" he asked, his cheek round from the apple slice. "People can't just disappear, especially not royalty. Aren't those people supposed to be followed by guards even when they go take a piss?"

"Language, Richard," his mother tutted behind him from the kitchen.

The corner of his mouth curved up a bit in apology as Victor laughed. "That girl did it and there's no evidence of a kidnapping or a struggle. She disappeared in the middle of the night."

Richard shook his head with a scowl as he took another bite of his apple. That could only mean one thing. "She ran away. Spoiled brat. Why the hell would she just up and leave when she's got it good?"

Once again, his mother tutted, albeit much louder. "I swear, you got that mouth from your father."

"I've heard that she's witty," Garfield commented offhandedly as he went rummaging through his pockets. "She probably told the guards a riddle and left while they tried to figure it out."

Victor continued a bit somberly. "You never know what could have driven her away. Palace life sounds good, but we don't know what really goes on deep within those walls and corridors. The little lady probably had it worse than we do."

Richard's eyes narrowed at Victor's insinuation. Then, he looked around the dingy cottage that he and his mother lived in. He had _been_ living in that dingy cottage with his mother since he was born and to this day, even after his father had passed.

He looked down at his clothes. Then, he met Victor's eyes.

Victor rolled his eyes. "I meant internally. The little lady's probably got it worse than we do _internally_. Either way, she's brave and she's got courage that's almost as sharp as her wit. I know I couldn't do it."

"Aha!" Garfield exclaimed. He took his fist out of his pocket, only to unfurl it and reveal a balled up scroll sitting in his palm. Quickly, he unrolled the ball, smoothing it over along the edge of the table before he stood to hold it out in front of them.

Richard's mother looked up at that. She studied the crumpled and wrinkled paper before she set her supplies down. "What does that say?"

"I'm particularly pleased that _you've_ asked," Garfield began with a wink in her direction. "And may I say that you're looking quite ravishing this morning? Why, you're practically glowing! If it wasn't for the age difference, I'm sure that I would have been Richard's father." He tapped his finger on his chin contemplatively. "Although, I'm not too fond of the name '_Richard_'-"

"Damn it, Gar!" Richard exclaimed.

"Richard, that mouth!"

"Stop flirting with my mother!" He continued before he turned to his mother. There was a _smile_ on her face. "And stop provoking him!"

His mother shrugged, her smile growing coy.

When Richard began muttering under his breath, Victor chuckled before he began reading the scroll. "Princess Raven, sole daughter of the royal family, has gone missing. Reward for her return is thirty... Thirty pounds of gold and ten pounds of silver," he finished in awe.

"That's a lot of money," Garfield said after a while. He said it quietly, which was a testament of just _how much _money that was. Normally, the boy couldn't ever shut up, much less speak quietly.

The entire cottage was silent, save for the kettle bubbling and the sounds of the people outside. They all knew how much money that was. They all knew what they could do with that much money. But, they also knew that there would be others searching for the girl, as well. As hard as it may have been to believe in these hard times, they weren't the only ones struggling to make ends meet.

Richard observed the looks on his friend's faces, then he looked to his mother. He looked at her clothes, the kitchen, and the dingy cottage that they were _still_ living in. This was his mother. She deserved better. She deserved to live the way that spoiled princess took for granted. His mother was the one who deserved to be spoiled.

"Did they give a physical description on that thing?"

He was going to find that spoiled brat.

_**.**_

According to the description, the princess was pale skinned and had violet eyes. Pale skin was not strange in the kingdom and neither was a violet eye color. However, what was strange was the color of her hair. It was also violet, matching the color of her eyes. There were not many people walking around with violet colored hair in the kingdom, and with good reason. After all, violet colored hair was the staple of the royal family, a strong gene that was inherited and passed down from generation to generation.

She was beautiful. At least, this was what people told him when he asked around.

"Oh!" the old merchant exclaimed as he filled the basket with fruits. "The princess is an angel among men!"

Richard stumbled forward when a man bumped into him, pushing past him with his own basket in hand. The marketplace was busy today, but this didn't come as a surprise to him. It was bustling with people, mostly men, which meant that they were also preparing to search for the princess. "You've seen her before?"

The merchant nodded with a wistful smile. "Aye. I _met_ her and even spoke to her for a short time. A sweet girl, she is, and a sharp contrast to the royal family stereotypes. She's a smart one."

Victor's words rang in his head. "Witty, too, huh? Sharp wit?"

The merchant raised a brow. "Hey," he said with a wavering voice and finger, both shaking in suspicion. "I thought you said that you've never met her."

"I haven't," Richard responded, which wasn't a lie. He had never even cared to converse about the girl before this whole debacle. "I'm just going by what my friends tell me."

The merchant nodded. "I do pity the girl. There was a smile on her face, but she didn't look very happy when I met her. Who knows?" he began with a chipper tone. "Maybe you'll be the one to find her and fall in love!"

Richard's face contorted in disgust. "She left her cushy life. I'm just going to find her and get that money. All of it. I would never fall in love with such a spoiled brat."

The merchant tutted. "Careful. The gods can hear," he warned as he placed an orange into the full basket. The orange rolled over the other fruits and fell to the ground, bouncing before rolling under the table.

Before the old man could say anything, Richard held a hand up with a polite smile. "I'll get it." So, he placed the basket onto the table and crouched down, ducking underneath the table and the cloth, only to come face to face with a girl. A pretty one. Actually, that may have been a _serious_ understatement. "What are you doing under-"

Immediately, her hand was over his mouth, halting his question and muffling his obscenities. "Quiet," she hushed him, her voice raspy and husky. "I can't be found."

Richard studied her. She had violet eyes, but once again, that wasn't strange in the kingdom. The staple was missing. Her hair was jet black and pulled back into a tight bun, the dark color being a stark but alluring contrast against her pale skin. This wasn't her. So, he nodded and she removed her hand from over his mouth with a sigh.

"What are you doing under the table?" he asked.

"What are _you_ doing under the table?" she returned.

He was _not_ about to do this. He didn't care how good looking (another understatement) she was. "I dropped my orange," he said as he picked it up and waved it.

She watched the orange in his hand before meeting his eyes. Then, she released another sigh. "I stole something and I don't want to get caught."

It was hard to believe that someone that beautiful (_that_ was the word) was capable of stealing anything. "That's why you're under this table?" When she nodded, he finally sat down, crossing his legs. He needed to get comfortable for this. "Sorry, little lady, but I don't think that this is the proper hiding spot. You'll be stuck here for hours."

"My name is not little lady," she responded curtly. "And I know that," she said a bit exasperatedly. "I was just in a hurry and wasn't thinking straight. I've never stolen before."

That made sense. "What did you take?"

"Food," she began as she took her satchel and opened it for him, revealing the contents and food filling it up. "I was hungry and I have no money on me. I got desperate."

There was a barely visible frown on her face, but he saw it. "Did you run away? You look like a runaway." She may not have fit the description of the princess, but she definitely fit the description of a runaway. He had seen plenty runaways before, but he wasn't sure if they had been as beautiful as she was.

She crossed her arms, sitting up in contempt as her bun tapped the table. "Excuse you. Just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

The emotion flaring in her eyes just made her look even more alluring. That didn't make her any less annoying. "That you look like a runaway. I didn't mean it as an insult."

She watched him for a few moments before she let out a breath and slumped back down. "I'm sorry. I've just been really on edge for a couple of days."

He nodded in understanding. "That's what no food does to you."

She blinked at him. Then, quickly, she returned the nod. "Right. No food."

He offered her a smile. "How long have you been away from home?"

"A couple of days," she responded. "I couldn't stay there anymore. I just," she sighed with a shake of her head. "I just don't know where to go. I mean, I'm _stealing_ food. I've never stolen _anything_ before!"

A chuckle escaped him at that before the old merchant tapped the table. "Young man!" he called out. "You haven't died down there, have you?"

"No," Richard answered, all the while keeping his gaze on the girl. "I'm coming up now."

They watched each other. He couldn't just leave her under this table. Something in him was telling him to help her. And for goodness' sake, she was a runaway who didn't even know how to be a _proper_ runaway. "I'm looking for the princess."

A single raise of her brow was the only change of expression on her face. "Are you? Is the search for the princess why this marketplace is so busy?"

"Yeah," he laughed out, scratching the back of his neck. She didn't look too impressed with him. Not that he cared. "There's a lot of money at stake."

As she nodded, she bit on her lip before releasing it. He couldn't help but to stare at her reddened and swollen lip. Luckily for him, she was looking off to the side. "What do you need the money for?"

When she looked to him, he met her eyes. "My mother. I want to take care of her."

Finally, there was a smile on her face. It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. "How noble of you."

Her smile cause one of his own to grow. "Would you like to come?"

She looked a bit taken back at his request. "Why?"

Honestly, he was taken back himself. He had literally just met the girl under a table because he dropped an orange. Actually, the reason behind his request probably lied within the smile she gave him. Nevertheless, he shrugged. "I can't exactly leave you under this table, can I? Plus, it'd be nice to have a little company."

Still, she looked taken aback. It didn't look like she was used to this type of hospitality and this only made him want to reach out to her even more. Before he could continue his sales pitch, she nodded.

His smile grew. "What's your name?"

"Rachel."

"Richard."

She seemed to be hesitating before she allowed herself to smile. Then, she bit on her lip as she looked to her satchel. "It's a lot. You won't let them catch me, will you?"

Once again, he was distracted by her lip before meeting her eyes. "I'll fight for you." He swore that the breath almost got knocked out of him when her smile grew.

_**.**_

It was a tent, a rather large one, he had purchased from the marketplace that was providing them with shelter the first night. There were two sides to the tent, but she wasn't in hers. She didn't want to sleep alone. Not out there, she told him. Of course, he didn't mind. Even if he had to sleep with her feet right in front of his face.

One thing was that they twitched every so often - her feet, that is.

She was quiet, but he understood. Once again, he had met her under a table in a marketplace while trying to find his orange before he impulsively invited her onto his journey to find a princess in order to collect the money so that he could take care of his mother. If he were in her position, he would be quiet and cautious as well. Actually, he wouldn't have even accepted his own invitation in the first place. It was dangerous to just up and leave with strangers. But, she was a runaway who was attempting to escape her past. She was probably desperate and taking any chance she could.

Her foot twitched again.

Finally, after about a moment of wondering, he sat up on his forearms to look at her. She was laying on her stomach, reading a book with the lamp beside her. That must have been why she was so quiet. He couldn't see her face or the book, but from the way that her feet kept twitching, it must have been a pretty good book. "Hey, what are you-?"

Immediately, her hand shot out behind her as she shushed him, her feet dancing now. Honestly, it was a bit dramatic, but she was a girl.

Shortly after, she finally sat up and placed her book in her lap. She had let her hair down from that tight bun, complaining that she could never sleep with it tied up. It was long, much longer than he had expected it to be, touching the ground and piling up a bit at her sides and behind her even as she sat down. He wasn't particular about hair lengths, but she was close to making him grow biased. To say that he was mesmerized was yet another understatement he had encountered since meeting her.

She cocked her head to the side with expectancy, a bit of her hair spilling into her lap. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to interrupt people when they're reading?"

However quiet she may have been, her mouth made up for it. "What are you reading?"

She blinked before her brows furrowed. "You want to know what I'm reading?"

Geez, wasn't this girl used to anyone paying any attention to her? He could show her just how much attention he was capable of giving her. Her, specifically. But, those were his hormones speaking. So, he nodded.

She watched him suspiciously before she looked to her book. She seemed to be debating something. Then, she quietly spoke. "_'Tales & Fables'. _It's a very good book. Actually, it's a book of stories," she said cautiously. Hesitantly, she added, "Would you like me to read you one?"

He was about to decline and tell her that he didn't need to be read a bedtime story. But, then she looked up at him. She was trying to mask it, but he could see that tiny glimmer of hope floating around in those eyes, highlighted by the light of the lamp. It was a done deal after that. Once again, he nodded.

A smile grew onto her face and she let out a short, excited breath. She began flipping through the pages. "It's a very good book," she repeated hurriedly when she finally stopped at a page, the smile growing contagious and touching his own face as he watched her. "This one is one of my favorites."

So, he reclined onto his pillow and folded his hands behind his head. He didn't mind being read a bedtime story after all, especially if it was from her.

_**.**_

The next morning as they packed up and prepared to leave, she fixed her hair back up into the tight bun. Admittedly, she really should have cut it if she wanted to stay hidden, but she loved her hair and its length. She hated living at the palace, but they took good care of her hair.

She felt a tingling sensation on the back of her neck. "What?" she asked, not bothering to turn around.

"Nothing," he said suddenly. She had caught him off guard. Then, he cleared his throat. "You should leave your hair out. It's nice."

Her hair _was_ nice. She knew. It was long and thick, not a single wave or curl in sight before it stopped right beneath her backside. Typical princess hair. It was even more beautiful when it was violet, its natural color. She finished fixing her hair into the bun. It was heavy because of the length and density of her hair, but she was not taking any chances. Especially when she was traveling with him.

He was an intelligent one, that Richard boy was. As she read him her story, he kept interjecting, asking questions and piecing things together as the storyline progressed. It scared her. He was like a sleuth, a detective in the way that he analyzed things. She had only spent half a day and one night with him, but she had to admit that he made her a bit nervous. Not only was he curious about her, but he also had a brain - one that he used. He made her feel as if he would soon find her secret out and turn her in. In fact, if she wasn't with him, she was sure that he would have been the one to find her.

But, of course, she was smart as well and prided herself in this fact. This obviously worked in her favor - she could throw him off.

Honestly, she didn't even know why she accepted his proposal to travel with him. All she wanted to do was steal some food and hide under a table peacefully until an opening to escape showed itself. Then, an orange rolled in. Followed by a boy. Actually, he was a man - a handsome one. But, his eyes, as bright, and blue, and electric as they were, carried a certain kindness and welcomeness that called out to her. That was probably why she accepted his invitation.

Finally, she turned to face him. "As if I would ever allow a silly boy to tell me what to do."

A grin slid onto his face at that as he laughed. "Give a girl a compliment and _I'm_ the silly one." At that, he took his bag and mounted his steed. He reached a hand out to hike her up.

As she smiled, she took his hand and they began their journey.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **_Thank you so much for the positive response! It all makes me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. :) Anyway, I hope that the continuation meets your expectations.

_**Disclaimer: **_This is a _fanfiction_ site. _-crickets- _Haha!

* * *

The Runaway - Part II

* * *

_He was a peasant farm boy. She was a runaway who didn't even know how to be a proper runaway. Together, they were going to find the princess._

* * *

The first city that they traveled to was called Steel City. The city was crowded, to say the least, but this was to be expected. Due to the governor's close ties to the royal family and the city's success with trading, Steel was a hot spot for travelers, tourists, and traders alike. This was why he and Rachel were here. Richard guessed that the princess must have, at least, passed through.

She was a surprisingly elusive one, that princess was. But, he was just fine with this because he wanted to be the one to find her and he, most certainly, would be. Richard needed that money. However, he had to admit that although the search was extensive and time consuming, it was also a bit more (a _lot_ more) enjoyable with Rachel by his side.

Richard really had not thought it all through. When he offered her the opportunity to travel with him, he was just going on a whim. He was just trying to be nice. He didn't expect to make a friend. He also didn't expect to be so conflicted. What was he going to do with her if did end up finding the princess? What was he going to do with her if he didn't? He couldn't exactly bring a runaway back home to his mother, but he couldn't leave her behind either.

Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that Rachel was just as intriguing as she was beautiful. But, she was also incredibly private. Incredible private-ness that he had now discovered wasn't _actually_ private-ness. Rachel just wasn't used to having people pay attention to her.

He could tell when she first read to him, but he didn't realize how deep it was until they actually began their search. It showed in the way that her eyes widened, however minuscule the action was, whenever he asked for her opinion on something. There was always hesitation before she answered him, but the answer was always posed as a question, as if she wasn't sure if he would approve. She always seemed surprised when he expressed an interest in her mind. Sometimes, she would even make a move to look behind her to see if she was the one that he was speaking to.

Needless to say, this bothered him. Immensely. Why wouldn't anyone want to delve deeper into that mind of hers? Admittedly, she was a little snarky and her sarcasm had a bit of a bite to it, but that all added to the charm. She had a beautiful mind, as prissy as that may have sounded.

But, it wasn't like he was saying this all out loud.

So, he would do it.

Pay attention to her, that is.

"If you were a princess," he began as he directed his steed into the direction and flow of the crowd. "Where would you go?"

Sitting on the horse, her brows furrowed a bit. "I wouldn't go far from home," she began tentatively. There was a slight pause, as if she was waiting for him to interrupt. When he didn't say anything, she looked to him. "I mean, princesses aren't allowed to leave their palaces much, are they? It's not like they have an extensive knowledge of the area around them, right?"

She was brilliant. "You tell me this _after_ we leave the capital city?"

"You didn't _ask_ me when we were in the capital city."

There that charm went.

"But, she could be here. I don't doubt it," she continued with a bit of a smile that made one of his own grow. "I'm quite surprised that she's actually been able to stay hidden for so long."

"Same here." It was hitting him how much he liked to hear her speak and express her mind. When she swallowed a bit and looked away, he realized that he had been staring. The smile grew a bit and he looked off as well to continue directing his steed. "Why would she run away, anyway? I mean, she's got it made in that huge palace. All the food she wants, lots of clothes, and money. She's a spoiled brat."

He could practically _hear_ her neck snap to look at him. "You don't know why she left. Don't just assume that she's a spoiled brat."

"She is a _brat_," he countered as he met her eyes, spitting the word out as if it put a foul taste on his tongue. "My mother would love and appreciate everything that princess took for granted."

They watched each other for a moment before she looked away, once again. "Silly boy," she muttered. She had quickly gotten into the habit of calling him that. He wasn't exactly sure how to feel about it. "Who knows what went on within those palace walls?"

Victor's words rang in his head. When one person defended that princess, it was ignorable. But, when two people defended her, he couldn't deny that he felt a bit insensitive, especially when that second person was a runaway who could probably relate to the princess. "My friend says that the princess is brave with courage that's almost as sharp as her wit."

She didn't look at him, but she did speak after a moment. "What is their name?"

"Victor."

"Victor," she repeated, tasting the word on her tongue. "One who defeats an enemy or opponent in battle, game, or competition. A conqueror."

Gods, he loved hearing her speak.

Then, she added a bit quietly. "The name fits him."

It did fit Victor. It fit Victor very well, actually. With a short smile and a shake of his head, Richard directed them deeper into the city of Steel.

_**.**_

He was frustrated. She could tell. It was almost hilarious, but she never allowed herself to laugh at his annoyance.

They had just finished interrogating an old librarian. The woman was very kind, but did not have the answers that they (_Richard_) were looking for. Very patiently, because she was sure to have accumulated a great amount of patience after having dealt with previous interrogators all day, the old woman told them that there were no signs of the princess anywhere near the library. She knew this because she had _been_ getting interrogated ever since the decree of the missing girl had been issued throughout the land.

So, with solemn nods, they left the library.

Now, Richard sat on a bar stool with his elbows perched up onto the counter and his face in his hands. The boy looked like the poster child for dejection. The boy had _been_ looking like the poster child for dejection ever since they left that library, which was why she took him to a pub that she spotted. He didn't even order anything, but preferred to just sit there and pout.

It was then that she actually snorted.

Men were all the same, no matter the age.

Honestly, she really did feel bad for him. He had quickly become a friend of hers, but she chalked it up to him being her only companion at the moment. It was also attributed to his blatant interest in her mind. She wasn't used to it, but it was not unappreciated. This sudden friendship was unexpected, but, once again, it was not unappreciated. It was not very often that she made genuine friends who weren't interested in her name, but in her. Then again, he didn't even know her real name.

When he began tugging at his hair, she felt her heart drop.

She sighed.

Of course, _she_ was feeling bad for the one who was searching for her in order to turn her in for money. Nevertheless, she felt the need to cheer him up. Hence, the pub she was sitting in. Obviously, she had never been to one as this was not the place for a princess to be, but she didn't mind sitting in a dirty pub to cheer up the boy who had saved her from living under a table.

"Cheer up, Richard. You'll find her." No, he would not. "Don't let this discourage you."

The bartender, a big and burly man, came around to them, wiping the counter down. He nodded to Raven. "Aye," he greeted with a thick Irish accent. "What's his problem?"

"We're searching for the princess," she answered. "We just left the library and the librarian told us that there were no signs of her anywhere near here."

The bartender nodded. "The old woman ain't lying to ya. If that princess did pass through here, she'll be long gone by now. But, the lass is good at hiding. I wouldn't be surprised if she was shacking it up in this very city."

A smile tugged at Raven's lips.

Then, he watched Richard suspiciously when the young man began tugging at his hair. "Buck up, me boyo. All yer moping is sending shivers down me spine. It's making me uncomfortable."

Raven couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her.

"Very funny." His response was muffled. Finally, he removed his face from his hands and the brightness, transparency, and electricity of his blue eyes caught her off-guard. He didn't notice her swallow. "Why don't we just dye your hair violet and send you off to the palace? Apparently, that princess has got hair past her ass-"

"Honestly, Richard, that mouth."

"And so do you," he continued undeterred. "You'd be taken care of over there and I'd get my money. I doubt they'd spot the difference."

If only he knew how well his plan would work. Nevertheless, she rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

When Richard smiled a bit, her stomach turned and the bartender gave a sigh of relief. "That's much better. Thought I'd have to kick you out 'til you stopped all yer pouting. Now," he said as he took out a pen and paper. "What'll you be having today?"

_**.**_

"Why did you leave?" he would ask sometimes.

"Silly boy," she would always answer. "What kind of question is that to ask a runaway?"

Really, it wasn't an answer, at all. But, it always got a smile out of him. One night, however, she did answer him.

_**.**_

While the days were set up and scheduled to search for the princess, nights were always for talking. Their conversations had a wide range - sometimes they were silly and sometimes they were serious. One thing that remained constant was Richard's intent to have her know that he was interested in her mind. Once again, he did not like the fact that she was not used to having people ask her what she thought and for her opinions about anything. So, every night as they prepared to sleep, with her feet beside his face and the tips of her hair grazing his thigh, he always made sure to get into her head and draw her into a conversation.

"Why did you leave?" he asked one night.

"Silly boy."

He rolled his eyes.

"I believe that you've asked me this question many times before," she continued with that raspy voice of hers.

"_Rachel_."

"_Richard_." Somehow, he knew that she was smiling. There was a pleasant pause before she added, "I was unhappy."

Richard blinked at the tent's ceiling, surprised that she actually answered him. It wasn't much of an answer, but it was something. "Don't you miss your family? Don't you miss your friends?"

Her foot did a little dance. "I didn't have many friends."

"Not many," he said as he watched her foot halt. "But, you did have them."

Her foot remained still, but she did release an exasperated sigh. That made him smile a bit. "I had one friend."

She was surprisingly open tonight, he observed. Obviously, he was going to take advantage of that. "What was their name?"

"Her name is Star. She's my best friend," she responded quietly, strong hints of reminiscence floating in her voice. "She's beautiful."

"More beautiful than you?"

"Even more."

Richard sat up, reclining onto his hands to watch her. Her hair, long and thick as it was created a dark halo underneath her and violet eyes were highlighted by that lamp beside her. She always slept with the lamp because she liked to read before she slept. "I doubt that."

Finally, a scoff escaped her, but there was a smile on her face. She looked off to the side. "Are you normally this flirtatious?"

A smile of his own grew as he shook his head. "No." And this was the truth.

"As I was saying," she declared with a roll of her eyes that made him chuckle. "Star is beautiful - an absolute reflection of her name. No one can deny that she is outwardly beautiful, but her spirit shines through and makes her glow."

His smile softened a bit. "You sound like you're telling a story."

This seemed to strike a chord with her. Briefly, she met his eyes before she looked up at the tent's ceiling. "She always called me out on that. Apparently, I read so much that sometimes I do sound like a book. But, I only ever read so much because I didn't want to deal with it all." Quietly, she added. "An escape until leaving was the final-" She cut herself off, nervously chewing on her lip. "I miss her."

Obviously, she had not meant to tell him all of that. But, he didn't want her to think that she had any reason to hide. They were quiet for a moment before he reached for her satchel and began rummaging through it. She didn't say anything. Instead, she sat up to watch him until he found her book and held it out.

"Would you like to read me a story?" he asked because he hated to see her like that. "Maybe that'll make you feel better."

She seemed to be debating her decision before she nodded and took the book. He could not deny the slight flip his stomach did when that spark in her eyes dance.

This didn't sit well with him. At all.

See, over the course of their search and travels, however short it was since it had just begun, the two had grown incredibly close, but this was to be expected. After all, their entire friendship had become rooted in the mere fact that they only had each other and would continue to only have each other for the next few months until the princess was found. Despite this fact, Richard couldn't deny that through this friendship, he had grown a bit of an affection for Rachel. Affections that, in turn and in a short amount of time, grew and flourished into genuine feelings. A crush.

Of course, he tried to ignore it all. _Tried_ being the keyword because it really was hard to ignore feelings for someone like _her_. But, he continued to try because she was his friend, and a runaway who was attempting to escape her home life. So, he would not mar the dynamic they had.

But, _hell_, was it hard.

_**.**_

"And I have a friend named Garfield. He's a good guy, but the boy flirts like hell-"

"Language, Richard-"

"-Especially with my mother."

"Is your mother beautiful?"

"Where do you think I got these gorgeous baby blues from?"

A snort. "If your mother is beautiful, you can't blame him for flirting with her, no matter how old he may be."

"If Gar thinks that I would ever accept that shitty excuse-"

"Richard, that mouth!"

"Rachel, you sound like my mother."

A pleasant pause.

"You know, he would like you, Gar would. He likes pretty girls. You could definitely distract him from my mother - without a doubt. You should come home with me."

"Do you even know when you're flirting?"

"Not around you."

"Let's look over there."

He didn't miss that growing blush.

_**.**_

Raven looked forward to the night time. Not only because she didn't want to be out all day searching for _herself_, but because she liked talking to him and having someone listen to her. It was strange to be able to speak so candidly with someone and not be interrupted. It was even stranger to have that someone be so interested in her mind. She was not used to it, at all. In fact, the only time anyone would ever, truly be interested in what she thought was when it had to do with a dress she had to wear. Even then, her opinions were discarded. Even with Star, Raven couldn't speak too much for fear of gossip. Star would never gossip, but one could never be too sure with nobles. But, it wasn't like that with him.

He was surprised the night that she first opened up to him, she could tell. But, she thought that it was only fair. After all, he spoke so openly about his own life, so she could do the same without giving herself away. Once again, she was smart and prided herself in this.

Tonight, the topic was 'parents'. She had no desire to speak of any of her parents and he could tell. So, he took over and took to speaking of his mother. She could see that he was attempting to make it all easy for her; he was her friend, and for that, she was grateful.

Apparently, Richard's mother was so gorgeous that _not only_ did she steal the hearts of the young, but she _also_ held the record for stopping the most hearts in the senior citizen's community, both male _and_ female, _and_ was the _main_ cause of cardiac arrests in the town.

She laughed at that.

It was nice to hear him speak so candidly about his life. His eyes, bright, blue, and electric as they were, seemed to shine brighter, grow bluer, and become even more electric. A sight to behold.

"What about your father?" she asked. When he started a bit, she immediately regretted asking the question. It was obvious that she had grown unbearably comfortable with him. 'Unbearably' because it was absolutely _irritating_ just how comfortable she had grown with a boy she had met just one month ago who was searching for her in order to turn her in for money.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

She debated telling him that it was nothing, but he would snuff her lie out. "Your father," she said tentatively before she began rambling. Gods, she never rambled, but she was doing it now. "It's just that you never speak about him. It's always your mother and your friends, sometimes the family and the people in your community." Then, she took a breath to calm herself down before she would be forced to resort to punching herself in the mouth. "I'm sorry."

There was a pause that hung in the air. Normally, the pauses that hung between them were pleasant or just. This pause was pained.

Another apology sat at the tip of her tongue, ready to fall out before he spoke. "He died when I was thirteen. He got sick and we didn't have the funds to take care of him."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

But, it _was_ her fault. Her family's fault. They never cared much for the poor, and here she was _bonding_ with him - a peasant farm boy. Ashamed, she broke their eye contact.

"Don't be sorry," he said, attempting to reiterate the fact that it was not her fault. She met his eyes, but this didn't alleviate her guilt. "My father was a good man. He was an even better husband," he added with a snort and a nostalgic smile as he looked off. "My mother loves flowers, so he would wake up before the sun was even up and go off into the forest or the woods, just to find a fresh flower for her to wake up to."

Raven sat up at that. "Every morning?"

"And it would be a different flower each day," he continued with a nod. "I never even knew that there were so many species of flowers, but he knew every single one. He picked every one of them for her just to see her smile."

It _sounded_ like a fairytale, but this was real. She never thought that people really went through all of that effort for others. She always thought those stories only ever existed in her books because it surely never existed in her world. She knew of _very_ few nobles who married for love. She wasn't even sure of her own parents.

"He loved her."

"From the day that he met her to the day that he died."

Raven swallowed because she knew that this was something she would never be able to experience. "That's beautiful."

Finally, he looked at her and as unbelievable as it was, his eyes were even brighter, bluer, and more electric. He studied her with those eyes and her stomach turned. "What?"

She was about to lie, but she knew that she couldn't. She hated the fact that she got close enough to this boy that he was able to read her face and voice so easily when even her own parents were not even able to do so. She wanted to tell him how unlikely and fake his story sounded. She wanted to tell him that it sounded like a dream come true. A fairytale.

She felt a bit uneasy under his gaze, but she didn't let it show. She was good at poker faces and making people think that she was okay. She was also very good at delving deep without _actually_ delving deep. She was a princess - all of these were her specialties.

But, she could not lie to this boy. Not only would he snuff her out, but her guilt would grow. He had just told her about his father; lying to him would be unfair.

"Who picks her flowers now?" she asked instead.

_"Gar."_ At that, he fell back into his pillow.

A laugh escaped her.

But, one night it became real - her growing comfortability with him, that is. That night, they weren't even in the tent, talking and preparing for sleep, with the two of them sharing stories or her reading to him. Instead, they were actually out in the town, taking in Steel's night life because he was feeling skittish and impulsive.

Of course, "Silly boy," was the first thing to come out of her mouth.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don't know," he muttered as he took her wrist into his hand. He didn't notice her face flush up. "Let's go."

Needless to say, the whole vibe of the entire night was everything that she wasn't used to.

There were people singing and dancing in the streets, barefooted on the dirtied, cracked, and uneven pavements. They played games and gambled with the biggest smiles and the most torn up looking clothes. Raven had never even seen nobles this happy. Yet these people, as poor and unfortunate as their monetary situations were, smiled, and laughed, and sang, and were happier than any of the richest royals or nobles that she knew, had ever seen, or met.

Beside her, Richard laughed along with the others when a street performer did a trick.

Honestly, she didn't understand it at first. How could they all be so joyous? It wasn't like they were drunk, and judging from how feeble and thin some of their statures were, they certainly didn't have a house full of food. But, the more that she watched them, taking in their ever growing smiles, the children dancing, the young mother bouncing a baby on her knee to the beat of the music, and the old man who placed a kiss onto his wife's hand before leading her into a dance, she understood.

And she loved it.

A pained, disturbed wail pierced the air. In one accord, the singing, music, and dancing stopped as they all searched for the source of that wail, that_pained_ and _disturbed_ wail.

A man carrying a child in his arms and clutching them to his chest stumbled in. A man of that size really shouldn't have been clutching onto his child like that - he would suffocate them.

Then, when the man fell to his knees, Raven saw the child's thin and limp arm dangling from his father's hold. Her heartbeat quickened. She was sure that it quickened almost tenfold.

"My son!" he gasped out, his face as pained and disturbed as that wail was, before he began speaking in his native tongue, his words fading into garbles as he hid his face in his son's chest.

Immediately, everyone began swarming the man and his child. The entire community, this mans _family_ began swarming him and his dead son, the nights festivities long gone and forgotten.

Raven blinked back the tears that shouldn't have even welled up in the first place. It wasn't like she knew the boy. Swallowing, she looked to Richard.

As if he could sense her question, he answered her. "He died because there was no food."

That explained why the boy was so thin. "You understand them?"

"A little."

She did remember him mentioning that his mother was a foreigner. But, why did he look so calm? And why wouldn't those tears stop welling up? She looked up, as if tilting her head back would force the tears back to where they came from. "Why are you so calm?"

"Children dying due to the lack of food is nothing new," he said. "I'm used to it."

That made her look at him. It was actually a feat in itself that she hadn't gotten whiplash the way that her neck snapped to look at him. "You're used to this," she deadpanned with a sniffle that sounded much too loud in her opinion. "You shouldn't be used to this."

"Nobody should be used to this," he said with a shrug before he tore his gaze from the scene to look at her. His face contorted with a look of worry and she was sure that it was because she had tears running down her face. "Hey, don't cry."

As if saying that was going to help the pain that she felt. As if saying that was going to alleviate all of the guilt that she felt. This was definitely a culture shock if she'd ever experienced one. Children were literally _dying _in the streets due to the lack of food and here she was, the princess who ran away from a palace _full_ of food, being comforted by a peasant. The peasant who was searching for her to turn her in for money so that he could take care of his mother and provide a better life for her.

With a shake of her head and a sniffle, she covered her face. "I'm sorry. I don't even know why I'm crying."

She knew that he could tell that she was lying. So, she didn't fight it when he pulled her in for a hug. It didn't make sense to her how these people were so happy, dancing and singing in the streets when they had no food or weren't even sure if they would make it to see another day. _Children _were _dying_ because there was no food and _Richard_, her friend, was used to it.

The father's unintelligible blubbers made her stomach turn. "It's not fair."

He shook his head. "It isn't."

It was not fair. At all.

So, she started speaking. The words started to spew and spill out of her mouth. Verbal diarrhea.

"My parents were going to marry me off," she blurted out. "That's why I left."

His hold on her grew firm. "I'm sorry."

He was sorry, sorry for _her_, and she was glad. She was glad that, for once, someone took her feelings into consideration. She was glad that he was pitying her. She wanted more of it. But, this was the peasant boy who was used to children dying from lack of food who was feeling bad for her. This was the boy who was used to children dying due to lack of food who was comforting her, the princess who ran away from a _palace_ full of food. That fact caused the guilt that was previously swarming her to completely engulf and envelope her entire being.

"Richard," she choked out with a gasp and a sniffle. "That man would have taken care of me. He had money. I'm a brat like that _stupid _princess."

"Rachel," he sounded surprised. "You're not a brat-"

"I am," she said before the sobs overtook her. The only reason that they hadn't attracted any attention was because of that dead boy. They probably thought that they were mourning and that she was crying for him, but she wasn't. Raven was being a spoiled and selfish brat and shedding tears for herself instead of for that dead boy and for his grieving father. "I'm such a brat. We should dye my hair violet like you said and take me to the palace-"

"Rachel, I was joking-"

She wasn't. She would give up her freedom just to know that he and his mother would be taken care of. The brat that she was deserved to be shut off from society. "You'll get your money and I'll be taken care of-"

"Rachel," he interrupted, his voice as firm as his hold. "You're not a brat."

He meant it. The sincerity in his voice broke her heart because _he didn't know_ and soon, her cries were in tune with the father's.

The next morning, she woke up warm. She always did wake up warm, but this was a different warmth and from a different source. Slowly, she opened her eyes, only to come face to face with a sleeping Richard. There was a moment of tranquility that washed over her as she watched him, attempting to figure out how they got into this position; more importantly, how _she_ got into this position with _this_ handsome boy. Normally, she was facing his feet when she slept and woke up.

That was when everything that happened the other night came flooding back into her head.

_"I'm such a brat," she sobbed into his chest._

_"No, you're not," he said as he combed his fingers through her hair in an attempt to soothe her. "You're not a brat. You're not a brat, Rachel."_

This was dangerous. Not because she was afraid that he would find her out, but because she was growing too comfortable with him. Actually, she was _past_ growing _too_ close to him. She spilled her heart out to him and he held her as she slept. The boy could tell when she was lying, for goodness' sake. She was a princess - she was trained to lie professionally. Her own _parents, _the ones who trained her in the art of lying, couldn't even tell when she was lying. Sometimes even _Star_ had trouble distinguishing a lie from her.

This was dangerous for them. This was dangerous for her heart and for his. It wasn't like she couldn't feel the attraction growing and rising between them. She felt it every morning when she woke up with his feet in front of her face. She felt it every night they spoke and he told her of his life, when he got her to speak of her own life, and whenever she read to him. She felt it every time those eyes grew brighter, bluer, and more electric. She felt it every time a foul word left that dirty mouth of his. She felt it every time he called her _Rachel_ and she wanted to correct him and tell him to call her _Raven_ instead.

She was completely aware and had entertained the foolish idea long enough. She didn't mind if she got hurt, but she would never be able to live with herself knowing that she was the reason that he got hurt.

Raven needed to get out of there. Immediately.

So, as gently and quietly as she could, she unwrapped his arms from around her, the sinking feeling of regret already filling her up. She took her satchel and crawled out of the tent and began to walk as quickly and quietly as she could without stirring the sleeping horse. She didn't have time to tie her hair up. He was an early riser, too. She could fix it up when she got far enough from him.

There was quiet ruffling, but she just assumed that it was the horse or maybe the wind hitting the tent.

"Rachel?"

Of course, it was him. "Hell," she muttered to herself before slapping a hand over her mouth. Since when did she _swear_? _She_ never swore. Princesses were _not_ supposed to swear. It was obvious that he had already rubbed off on her.

She quickened her pace.

"Wait, Rachel!" he called out. "Where are you going?"

He sounded tired. And desperate. So, she stopped in her tracks and with a huff, she turned around to face him. His hair was all over the place and he had an indentation mark on one of his red cheeks. He was absolutely handsome.

And at risk.

He took a cautious step forward. "Were you running away again?"

Honestly, the boy's sleuthing skills were unparalleled, not that she didn't make it all obvious. Nevertheless, she crossed her arms, holding her chin up in defiance. "What makes you say that?"

He scoffed. "Your track record doesn't exactly speak well of you."

Infuriating boy. She bit her tongue before she spoke. "I was just going for a walk."

"Going for a walk, my ass."

Absolutely infuriating. "How many times do I need to tell you to watch your mouth?!"

"How many times do I need to tell you that you sound like my mother?!"

"Are you going to let me take my walk?!"

"And I reiterate, 'Going for a walk, my _ass_'!"

"And how would you know?!"

"You've got a tell! Your right foot taps incessantly when you lie!"

A short moment passed before she blinked, swallowed, and looked down at her foot. True to his word, her right foot was tapping. Incessantly. Almost at the same rate of her heart.

Trouble. So much trouble.

"I have to go." With that, she spun back around and began walking.

"Damn it, Rachel, get back here."

She kept walking.

"Rachel!"

_"My name is Raven!" _she almost yelled back. _Almost_.

"Damn it, Rachel! Get your cute ass back over here!"

That only made her quicken her pace. If he was willing to call her out on how cute her butt was and she was willing to let it slide, then she was in a tremendous amount of trouble. "As if that would ever make me come back!"

A sigh. "Fine. Rachel, please come back?" he corrected. Then, a groan. "Hell."

Suddenly, she found herself over his shoulder and her entire world upside down as he walked her back to their tent. "Richard!" she bellowed, her voice bouncing with each of his footsteps as she pounded his back. "Put-me-down-now!"

"Gladly," he said as he set her down. "You're heavy."

She shoved at his chest. "As if a silly boy like you could ever carry me!"

He sputtered. "What the hell does that mean?!" Before she could say anything that reminded him of his mother, he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Listen, why are you leaving? Did I do something?"

On the contrary, she wanted to tell him. The only thing he did was act as an absolute gentleman. Despite his filthy mouth. She didn't want him to think that he had done anything wrong when he hadn't done anything at all. But, she couldn't leave any room for persuasion. "Richard, I can't stay."

"Your foot isn't tapping."

"Because I'm not lying."

He didn't seem to care what she had to do as long as she wasn't lying to him. He took a step forward and she swore that her heartbeat's pace quickened tenfold when he took her hand into his. "Rae, you can't just up and leave like that."

Rae? A nickname? No one was ever so bold to give her a nickname before. "Why? So you won't be lonely?"

"Because you didn't give me a proper explanation."

"I didn't realize that I had to explain myself to you."

"You do when we've been together for almost two months."

Suddenly, she was _very_ aware of her hand in his.

"Besides, I like having you around," he answered before an impish smile slid onto his face. "Plus, I promised that I would fight for you."

Her heart hiccuped. What was this boy doing to her? "You didn't promise me that."

"I'm promising you that now."

That smile on his face made her stomach do a little _flip_ before she broke their gaze to watch their hands. This was dangerous. So dangerous. But, she couldn't deny how perfectly her hand fit into his - almost like a puzzle piece. She swallowed before she finally looked up and met those eyes. "Fine."

Her voice was a bit weak and choked, but he didn't seem to mind, notice, or care. "Fine."

Where would she have gone, anyway?

_**.**_

He never held her again as she slept, but he did keep his pillow next to hers, just to make sure that she wouldn't try to run again.

"I already told you that I'm not leaving," she would always say with an irritated roll of her eyes. But, he never missed the smile that she tried to hide or the slight quickening of his heartbeat at the sight of it.

The only real difference in their routine wasn't really a difference in _their _routine, but in _his_. He found himself waking up a bit earlier, just to make sure that she was still there. Waking up to see her pillow empty and her satchel gone almost put him into cardiac arrest. It bothered him to admit it, but he would hate it if she left. He would hate it if she left _him_. Rachel had definitely grown on him - enough for him to call her out on how cute her butt was, to carry her back to the tent, and to hold her hand in an attempt to make her stay.

That was flirting - hardcore flirting. True, it was all in the heat of the moment, but this was besides the fact that whole situation wasn't exactly helping him to ignore or push down that crush.

So, he stopped. He stopped ignoring his feelings and decided to do something about it before he could come to his senses, punk out, and resume his ignoring.

Richard gave into that impulsive streak running through his veins and now, he was rummaging through some forest early in the morning, before the sun was even in the sky, to find a flower for her before she woke up. It was pathetic and he felt like a hormonal, teenage boy, but he was already out and going through shrubbery. He might as well finish what he started. Besides, this was what got his father the girl, so it was sure to work for him. From that look he remembered on Rachel's face when he told her, it was bound to work.

When she finally did wake up, approaching him with hair tied up and the flower in hand, she didn't look rubbed the wrong way. Just curious. Maybe hopeful. "What is this?" she asked.

"Rachel, that's a flower," he answered.

_"Richard."_

He allowed an easy and impish smile to slide onto his face before he scratched the back of his head. "I just thought that you might like it. I've got to give you some kind of incentive to stay after you tried to run, right?"

She pursed her lips as she fought a smile. A quiet moment passed before she began studying the flower. "What is it? And don't say that it's a flower," she quickly added. "I'm not stupid."

He smiled a bit. "I know." Her eyes were curious and wondering, matching the petals of the flower that she studied and held between her thumb and forefinger. "That's a pansy."

Then, the smile she was fighting off finally escaped before she began tucking the flower into her bun. It was a small, ghost of a smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Thank you."

It took all of his strength in order to keep that breath of relief in. He wouldn't mind waking up a bit earlier every morning, even before the sun was in the sky, if he got to see that look on her face and the flowers that he picked for her tucked into her hair.

When she finally met his eyes, his stomach flipped. Holy hell, was he in trouble with this one. "You're welcome."


End file.
